Looking back at my elementary and middle school experiences, I do not remember ever being stressed. Although this may sound crazy, I remember having a lot of friends, playing sports, and enjoying my classes, but I cannot recall a time of feeling overwhelmed, stressed, or even spending more than about an hour on homework per night.
Growing up in a tiny town and having a brother two years older than me, most of the teachers I got already knew who I was. Whether it was because they knew my parents from living in a 1 square mile town or because they had my brother, I was usually already known. My brother was always very smart, which worked in my favor. When I would get teachers that he had already, they would base my academic level off of my brother’s, which ended up benefitting me. Teacher’s would see right away that I was smart and would like me because they liked my brother. It was much easier to enjoy a class when I knew the teacher liked me. I would participate and give input whenever possible. I would get much more out of the class by being involved.
Throughout middle school I was always one of the smarter kids. I never struggled and got straight A’s. I was involved in almost every club and was the class president. These years were a real confidence booster. I never felt like I had to put in all my effort and rarely had to study for tests. These habits I got into were not good. Although they worked for me throughout elementary and middle school, when I decided to attend my high school, I knew it would be a challenge, but coming from middle school, I did not realize the true magnitude of the challenge. The first semester of my freshman year was a real eye opener. I learned that the habits I had in middle school would not work, and I needed to really apply myself and put in much more time and effort in order to succeed. There were often times in high school when I did not feel smart, but I had to keep reminding myself of my middle school experience in order to motivate myself and remind myself of my academic abilities.
My most influential teacher was my 8th grade Algebra teacher. My algebra teacher was one of the hardest teachers in the school and it was the highest level of math that could be taken. He was the first teacher I ever had to get extra help with, and was the first to give me anything lower than an A. I received an A-, and although this sounds crazy, I was devastated. I was one point below getting an A. It was in my third semester of my 8th grade year and I remember going to the teacher crying asking if there was anything I could do. Looking back, I realize I should have been proud to earn an A- for that semester, but at the time, I did not see that. The teacher talked to me and explained that an A- is still a good grade, and that he was proud of all the hard work I put into his class. Although at the time I did not want to hear anything he had to say, I still remember that exact day, and it taught me to be proud of my achievements, even if they were not perfect straight A’s. This teacher’s class was a difficult class, and an A- was something to be proud of.
Growing up in a tiny town and having a brother two years older than me, most of the teachers I got already knew who I was. Whether it was because they knew my parents from living in a 1 square mile town or because they had my brother, I was usually already known. My brother was always very smart, which worked in my favor. When I would get teachers that he had already, they would base my academic level off of my brother’s, which ended up benefitting me. Teacher’s would see right away that I was smart and would like me because they liked my brother. It was much easier to enjoy a class when I knew the teacher liked me. I would participate and give input whenever possible. I would get much more out of the class by being involved.
Throughout middle school I was always one of the smarter kids. I never struggled and got straight A’s. I was involved in almost every club and was the class president. These years were a real confidence booster. I never felt like I had to put in all my effort and rarely had to study for tests. These habits I got into were not good. Although they worked for me throughout elementary and middle school, when I decided to attend my high school, I knew it would be a challenge, but coming from middle school, I did not realize the true magnitude of the challenge. The first semester of my freshman year was a real eye opener. I learned that the habits I had in middle school would not work, and I needed to really apply myself and put in much more time and effort in order to succeed. There were often times in high school when I did not feel smart, but I had to keep reminding myself of my middle school experience in order to motivate myself and remind myself of my academic abilities.
My most influential teacher was my 8th grade Algebra teacher. My algebra teacher was one of the hardest teachers in the school and it was the highest level of math that could be taken. He was the first teacher I ever had to get extra help with, and was the first to give me anything lower than an A. I received an A-, and although this sounds crazy, I was devastated. I was one point below getting an A. It was in my third semester of my 8th grade year and I remember going to the teacher crying asking if there was anything I could do. Looking back, I realize I should have been proud to earn an A- for that semester, but at the time, I did not see that. The teacher talked to me and explained that an A- is still a good grade, and that he was proud of all the hard work I put into his class. Although at the time I did not want to hear anything he had to say, I still remember that exact day, and it taught me to be proud of my achievements, even if they were not perfect straight A’s. This teacher’s class was a difficult class, and an A- was something to be proud of.